Flying to the Void Gate took only a few minutes, as the Fafnir go, and they found it sitting in a narrow creek-bed, surrounded by rocky-pebble banks, and a bramble-patch of tall but thin trees.  If not for the cattle that had clearly been through, based on the paths they’d gouged through the shrubbery to get to the water, it’s possible no one would’ve ever known the Gate was there at all.


    The cattle themselves were still lingering, but with the arrival of those winged warriors, quickly spooked and fled.  Furion stayed above the canopy for a moment longer, keeping an eye on the Inquisition ship that had parked in the sky nearby.  Once he saw that distinctive blue light appear from it, he lifted his right arm, and saw the same blue light manifest from the end of his vambrace-cannon, “We’re synchronized.  Coming down now to drop the anchors.”


    Being the only two fully-equipped Fafnir, it was incumbent on him and Ravan quickly dropped the barrier-spokes – the same as what they deployed around the Sterling Rose the year before, though on a far smaller scale – and when enough of them had been deployed to make a dome-shape, stood ready at one side.


    “Everyone get in position.” Furion said simply, looking ominously at that strange opening above the water.  He’d seen it a few times already, but it never stopped being odd.  As it always had, it seemed to ‘face’ whoever was looking at it, no matter how many people were looking at it, and its edges moved like burning paper, only to regenerate and burn again.  Within, it was dark, with unmistakable veins of red, exactly like the oily tendrils that flailed from the eyes of Scyrexian’s hosts.


    It immediately brought back unwanted memories of the last time he’d seen one…of her.


    .


    The Buckler’s hangar had been evacuated for the arrival of the body, and though Furion had landed it safely enough, something was already changing about it.  By the time he’d been able to come down himself – disconnected from the neural-interface that paralyzed him so he could move Ren’s armor instead – ‘she’ seemed to be ‘awake’ and was thrashing around.


    “You…are all vermin…!” Scyren snarled, empty eyes flaring with that ichor, “Let me…out…!”


    The fact that Scyren was strong enough to resist the armor-locks that should have kept the Fafnir stationary was already enough, but speaking with Ren’s voice made it far worse.


    Corbin was beyond confused when he landed, “What the Hell is this?  She’s still alive…!?”


    “Don’t listen!  It’s not her anymore!” Furion forced himself back to his senses, and darted for the S.D. Helmet that Rylen had left on a cart for him.  He tucked it under one arm as he got closer to remove the broken visor that Ren wore for the flight back.  Every threat Scyren barked at him as it was lifted away left black blood on the hangar floor, more still as those same tendrils that spilled from Ren’s eyes were starting to come from the ravaged stumps of her arms.  Even the disembodied limb that Corbin carried was starting to react, and Corbin threw it down in horror and disgust.  Furion took a few steps back to avoid it, and was fully exposed to the horrifying sight of Ren’s disfigured face.


    “When I get…free…mark my words, Captain…” Scyren growled angrily, “You will not be safe…  Her anger and resentment…all of her despair…it’ll come down on you…  I swear it…  Your suffering will be endless…!”


    Furion gathered what he had left of his courage and rushed at the beast, even as it screamed at him to stop.  It screamed those same words that Ren had said on that fateful mission months earlier, but soon, the helmet locked into place, and Scyren’s thrashing calmed.  Furion held there, arms wrapped around it like Scyren might throw it off if he let go, until every last residual twitch finally gave out, and the helmet beeped to signify it had a seal and was working.


    He only let go when he heard the very subtle sound of nanotech moving, and he saw the black coloration fade from Ren’s hair, leaving just the shock of white that Scyrexian had turned it to.  He knew then, Ren had officially been declared dead and her tech shut down, and he felt his heart seize in his chest.  Furion lowered down to his knees on the floor, and looked up, seeing only the faceplate of the S.D. Helmet there to look back at him, and the red and black armor that bore it.  He raised a hand towards Corbin, “…Sword…”


    The Fafnir didn’t question, and he grabbed for one of his hip-hilts, spinning it around to offer it.  He watched quietly as Furion found a length of that white hair that hadn’t been soaked with blood, and cut it free, then finally took a few steps away before offering the blade back, “…What…happened here…?”


    “What happened is irrelevant” Rylen’s voice came, and the mantle manifested as it walked closer.  He only went near enough to be able to see the dead look in Furion’s eyes, holding to that lock of hair like he’d kill anyone who tried to take it, and turned his gaze over to the downed Fafnir, “…I’m sorry it came to this.”


    “…Yessir…” Furion choked.


    “Sir Corbin,” Rylen continued, looking to the confused soldier, “You are hereby sworn to silence.  What you saw here today will never be spoken of again.  Am I understood?”


    “…Yessir.”


    “I’ll command her armor myself.  Let’s get her out of it.” The Sixth continued, “I’ll have one of these skiffs take her to a secure location.”


    .


    Needless to say, the Void Gate gave Furion the creeps.


    Ravan stood at the next spoke over, clockwise, from where her Wing Commander was, and the five greenbloods who’d followed there approached their own.  With everyone in place, Ravan began, “Activating.”


    Each Fafnir in succession thus turned their own sections on, and Furion completed it, manifesting that blue dome over the Scar, “Area secure.  No anomalies.  No signs of other activity.  Everyone up and create the wider perimeter.”


    “Shouldn’t we have secured the wider area first and then narrowed down?”


    Ravan felt a twinge, and before she could even get her feet off the ground, she planted them down again, eyes warily at the former Captain.  She did have one critique though, “There should be a ‘sir’ at the end of that, recruit.”


    “…Sir.”


    Furion looked back at the five, “In hostile territory, maybe, but we are under the protection off the Emperor, so we do things a little differently.  A dangerous target that we can’t just neutralize must be rendered inert before we risk anything else.” He explained, “Void Gates are unnatural and unpredictable.  You’ve been fortunate to have seen two prior that did nothing before evaporating.  Sir Setharion’s first Void Gate erupted, killed a man, and turned out to be a catalyst for far worse later.  We secure the Gate first to protect ourselves and those who are inbound.  Move out.”


    Ravan just mentally shook her head, and took off after that, watching the ground for any sign that something other than errant cattle might be around.  Even they, however, had to be corralled away, and she dropped a flare onto the entry-path they’d created into the bramble-patch.  In the hour it took to create and secure the perimeter, Ravan kept a close eye on the recruits’ movements, wondering if any of them were sending out private missives to one another.  She dared to send one of her own to Furion though, “…Commander?”


    “What is it, Dame.” He answered curtly.


    “Are you paying any attention to these new folks or is it just me, sir?”


    “Not sure what you mean.”


    “Three of them keep grouping up, leaving gaps in the perimeter.  Yet, I haven’t heard you tell them to break it up.”


    Furion hesitated to respond, but then gave a simple answer, “Stay focused on your duty.”


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    Her ears proverbially perked-up to hear it, and looked back into the distance, wondering what was going to happen.  It seemed like a whole lot of nothing for a little while, and Ravan just watched her overlay in frustration as the big circle that they were supposed to be maintaining around the Gate was left half-unprotected, These damn newbies aren’t taking this seriously at all…  I wouldn’t trust them to protect a carnival…


    Smoke-stacks started to rise though, and Ravan looked on at them curiously.  They weren’t just normal grey smoke either, but colored.  For every orange pyre that rose into the sky, it was an indication of failure, and six were already wafting.  Ravan dared not linger on it though; if the far side of the barrier was being tested, then any side of it could be, and soon enough, she spotted one of Corbin’s recruits circling around…with an arm up, pointing directly at her slice of the area.


    A quintuple-volley was fired off, and the Fafnir was quick to intercept every one of them, slicing one in half before shooting the other four, and the rookie darted away without a word.  The smoke that billowed from the remains was black – she passed.  Five black pillars had risen from the next section over, and she knew Furion had been tested as well.  The next section was guarded by one of the applicants; one black smoke-stack to one orange.  The final area was the same; one black and one orange.


    Lequerion was having none of the failures.  His normal greatswords were reforged with the nanotech training-blades, but he was still slicing like it was a real fight.  Veiled by that curtain of orange smoke, the only eyes that witnessed this ‘simulation’ were Wing Commander Two, Corbin D’Shay, and Jense Dmitry.


    “Dead.  Dead.  Twice-over, dead.  Perimeter penetrated, civilians killed, target lost.” The Captain said simply, looking down at the lackadaisical trio that he’d brought to heel.  The sinister appearance of his older-generation armor did nothing to soften the blow, and he pointed one of those enormous blades at the three, “Do you think this exercise is a joke?”


    “N-No sir!” One of them answered.


    Corbin turned away slightly where he hovered, and watched his last recruit fly by with the confirmation, “All simulacrums have been deployed, sir.  Commander Rydell and Dame Ravan cleared all five discharges; pass.  Sirs Rhonan and Westin were able to defend against one each; pass.”


    “Then why did all three of you fail to defend against the simulacrums?” Lequerion asked, “You were all so busy chatting over here that I took you down before you even knew I was here.  You broke protocol, left the area undefended, and half of my perimeter was left vulnerable.  Moreover…I thought I heard something that sounded close to insubordination.  You think I can’t hear you when you’re deployed?”


    There was silence within the three.  Corbin’s five trainees returned and hovered behind him, though not quite as elegantly as the two more experienced fliers, wobbling a bit where they tried to remain still.


    Lequerion turned to them, “Let this be a demonstration to everyone.  The rest of Wing Team One, come to my location.”


    “Yessir!” They all answered.  They were there within seconds, flying quickly.  Furion landed behind the downed trio, and the remains of his team followed-suit.


    “This team has been trying to come together for half a year now.” The Captain commented, and let the nanotech blades dissolve as he put his hilts back to his hips, though he kept those menacingly-pointed wings high, “You new recruits were all recommended by your prior Captains, so I can’t understand why the three of you were so determined to make those Captains look like fools for it.  Helmets and wings off.  Now.”


    The wing-packs and helmets were the only physical parts of their armor that didn’t dissolve with the nanotech when Lequerion dismissed them, and the trio were left with just their flight-suits otherwise.  One, in the center, was the same scruffy half-ox of a man that Seth had been stuck beside during the briefing, and he looked disgruntled.  On each side of him – two other men, younger than him and probably more na?ve as a result – looked extremely nervous.


    “This perimeter is ridiculous.” Lequerion played from a recording, “What are we even doing here?  This so-called Commander is a joke.  Everything he does is backwards.”


    “Didn’t you do these same kind of exercises at boot?”


    “Of course, but we actually had targets to look-out for.  This is just a circle.  No wonder this guy got demoted.  Lying was probably the last straw.”


    If anyone was making anxious expressions, their visors protected them from being outed for it.  The recordings continued.


    “Most of the entire previous unit got wiped out by a single enemy.  How bad do you have to be at your job to let nearly a dozen people die in a span of 30 minutes?  No wonder Dame Ren challenged him for command.  I’d be livid with his record, too.  Then he didn’t even go to the Nightlong War, staying behind on the Buckler like some old-timey General who didn’t have to get his hands dirty.  In my unit on the Bastion, I would always go out first an-Ggkkkgbchchhh.”


    The recording ended in violent static, and Lequerion turned it off.  There was awkward silence throughout the squad, but that burly man in the middle looked on defiantly.  The Captain released the visor on his helmet and let it rise overtop so he could see the trio with his own naked eyes, “Running your mouth about the results of a mission you weren’t even on is pretty bold.  Assuming you know how to command a unit you’ve barely joined is also classic.  I don’t even know where to begin.”


    Ravan side-eyed Furion, Did he know this was going to happen…?  No, he couldn’t have…  The Captain may be his father but the Rydells have always prided themselves on getting where they are legitimately…  He’d never give Furion a heads up about something like a surprise attack.


    “I came out here today thinking I’d just be testing your reflexes; see how your flying skills have come along since you got your training wings.  This was a lot more than I expected.” The Captain continued, “When Sir Setharion’s skiff arrives, it’ll take all three of you back to the Aegis, where you will await transfer to Agartha.  You’re off my unit.  I’ll leave it to Lord Rylen to decide whether or not you go back to your home-ships.  Sir Rhonan, Sir Westin; well done on the simulacrums you broke.  You’ll get more flying experience soon, and then two smoke-bombs will be nothing.  Wing Team Two also did well.”


    “Yessir!” They all answered.


    Lequerion pushed the visor back into place and shook his head, but then turned to the group hovering behind him, “Wing Team Two, take over the perimeter detail as planned.  The smoke will clear in a few minutes.  Wing Team One, follow Commander Rydell to the Ward.  I’ll stay here until the skiff arrives.”


    “Sir!” They answered again, and all 11 of them deployed quickly.


    Once they were high enough into the air, Ravan turned backwards to watch the Captain disappear into the distance, but flipped right-side-up again soon after, and looked instead to Furion.  She was about to say something, but Furion beat her to it.


    “In the interest of squad cohesion, I’ll tell you two things.” He started, “First, my absence from the frontline during the Nightlong War was not a decision I made.  My armor was damaged prior and was incapable of flight; I would have been out there if not for that.  Second, the reason we take these Void Gate protocols so seriously is because a Gate set-off the sequence of events that led to the former team’s massacre.  In time, once – and if – you clear the rest of the requirements to becoming fully-fledged Fafnir, you’ll be debriefed on what happened.”


    “Yessir.” The pair of recruits answered dubiously.


    Ravan glanced at Furion warily, and asked on a closed channel, “Can’t you explain to them why you’re Wing Commander instead of Captain?  It’d probably make things easier for everyone in the long run.”


    “Lord Rylen’s decision to keep me on should speak for itself.” He answered.


    “It’s not, though…  Just listening to what that goon was saying before…” She answered, “I trust you, but even I sometimes find my faith shaken by being in the dark, and I was there!”


    Furion held quiet for a few seconds while he thought, but then visibly seemed to relent, “Fine…”  He opened the channel back up to the other two, “Three things, actually.  The circumstances surrounding my demotion are not what people believe.  I wasn’t demoted for lying to Lord Rylen; I was given an order of reprimand for that, and Lord Rylen himself only issued it out of protocol obligations.  He understood why I did it, and it’s exactly why I’m still Wing Commander and not in front of a military tribunal somewhere.  I stepped down of my own volition.  It was important to me that the team be led by clear heads, and in the aftermath of the Nightlong War, mine wasn’t.  I’m much better suited to my current role, under Captain Rydell Sr.’s command, for the time being.  If you still take issue with it, you should forward your concerns to him rather than gossiping with each other.”


    Ravan was relieved to hear it, and put a hand to her chest, “Whew…”


    “…Can I ask one thing, sir?”


    Furion’s brow crinkled slightly, “Go ahead, Sir Rhonan.”


    “Why didn’t the unit just say that in the first place?” He wondered, hands out as he tried to keep his flight level, “Letting people believe otherwise just makes us all wonder who we’re taking orders from…”


    Ravan puffed and crossed her arms, “See?” She taunted privately; the Ward was coming into their sights by then.


    “Yeah, yeah…” He answered, and opened the channel again, “The report about my change in rank never actually laid-out that it was because of the order of reprimand.  One merely preceded the other, and people assumed, since the file was marked classified.”


    “So, you just let us believe wrongly without correction?”


    “How many excuses and explanations will you accept before you begin to question whether the Fafnir even have their shit together?” Furion countered, glancing back at the novice flier, “Lord Rylen kept me on as Second-in-Command despite it all.  I had hoped that would be enough for everyone.”


    “Can you tell us anything about what makes those Void Gates so dangerous, sir?” Westin wondered after, “If full understanding of a situation is any indication…”


    “The Gates are a portal.  Where to, we’re not sure, but there’s an extremely dangerous intelligence beyond it that can and will seep into this plane if we aren’t careful.” He explained pensively.


    “An intelligence, sir?  You’ve encountered it?”


    “…Yes.  The point of these investigations from the Inquisition is to find a way to close the Gates before anything can come through.  That’s all I can say on the matter for now.” Furion said stiffly, and slowed his pace as they passed overtop of the nearly-fully skeletonized SkyFortress, “We’re here.  Let’s focus-up.”


    “Yessir.”